Supafly.com

I woke up this morning in that “rested but don’t know why” kind of way. I could’ve slept a couple more hours, but I decided to get this day started earlier. Whenever I come down here to the coffee shop, I always end up writing better journals.

I was stuck in an airport in Newark, NJ, when a businessman in line in front of me managed a free ticket and an afternoon in the VIP Lounge. I took mental notes, and was ready to do and get what he did. But the ticket agent was a Real World fan, so I didn’t have to work as hard.

I soon joined him in the lounge and asked what he did for a living. He explained that he was a negotiation expert. I come to find out negotiation experts aren’t always fun to talk to, but he did have something to say. He told me the primary tool for negotiation is information. Information helps you know what to negotiate for, and how to get there.

My books on how to buy a house have been worthwhile—I hope. Everyone and their brother has a book about 101 things you don’t know but you need to know. They may or may not be accurate about their reader, but one thins is for sure: you can sell a book if they pretend they know more than others. The handful of books that I’ve read about buying a home have boosted my knowledge and given me more confidence. Now I have to apply what I have learned.

You know, I don’t like a lot of adults. It’s not adults, really—it’s people. As a Christian, I am called to give everyone the benefit of the doubt. That is why scandal will always surround Christianity, because wolves sneak into their circles. Anyway…back to the people I don’t like. There were kids I didn’t like in high school, and kids like that become adults. When I bought my car, three adults didn’t mind lying to get me to pay $3000 more than I should have. It was like three high school kids trying to sell me a speaker box off the street. But, I’m not trying to be the best friend of the car dealership, so I decided to become “difficult”. You can’t chase an uneasy feeling by making a quick decision. After two hours of prodding, they finally surrendered. It’s fun to make an adult look at you and admit they lied.

Columbo was the ultimate detective. I’d watch that show with Mom and Dad because he had messy hair and always cracked a case without anyone knowing what he was doing. He just played dumb and asked the right questions. Is Columbo on DVD now?

So my new thing is scooters. I road a scooter with my friend Jeffrey in high school, and I thought they were so cool. I saw an old scooter called a “Vespa” outside of a coffee shop near my sister’s dorm. That fascination passed, but only for a little while. Who needs a scooter in the mountains of Georgia? I don’t think anyone in the Phoenix area has as pretty of a drive as I do. It starts in a hip part of town, passes through parks, and ends in a well-groomed mountainside neighborhood. I cruise along at 45 mph because it’s the law and why hurry a pretty drive? But wouldn’t it be nicer on a Vespa?

So I am going to finish this journal and walk across the street to window shop for a Vespa.

It started when I was a little boy, maybe three or four years old. I was at Immaculate Heart of Mary Catholic Church in Hayesville, NC. A man there had a long beard and wore sunglasses all the time. Mom and Dad would be talking to him after Mass, and I stared at the hot chic tattooed on his forearm. Mom would jerk my hand and break me out of my trance. I was embarrassed.

When I was eighteen, Tammy and I spent hours at Dunkin’ Donuts refining the designs that would spend a lifetime on her back. I sat in the tattoo parlor (Sacred Heart, Little Five Points in Atlanta) enchanted by the buzz of the tattoo needle and the walls of artwork. I loved it!

I lusted over the tattooed sleeves of others. Mike from MxPx has some darn cool arms. I wouldn’t mind looking down on my arms right now, seeing artwork wrapped around the arms that create so much. I designed, but never became a canvas. I couldn’t forget a conversation I had one summer in high school.

I was carrying out groceries at Dills Food City and I asked him about his tattoo. I wanted to see what he was thinking, really. It was a clean and sharp tattoo, but why two roosters? “Tattoos are great. This tattoo will always remind me of two things: I used to like cock fighting, and I used to like tattoos.”

Then there was that guy with a mullet waiting in line for the rollercoaster at Hershey Park in Pennsylvania. On his shoulder, there was one of those cutesy trolls/gnomes with the tall brushed up hair. This troll was naked and gripping a bent barbell loaded with plates. Above and below it read “Butt Nekid Gym.” Most humans wouldn’t buy a t-shirt with that on it. I almost cried for the guy. What was he thinking?

But rednecks with poor taste can’t be that different from hipsters with popular taste. I’ve seen hundreds of those lower back tattoos on girls, the kind that are supposed to be sexy and seductive. I’ve seen way too many tribal bands wrapped around some dude’s ankle and bicep. The young rock star image passes. What’s left is a 20-something trying to pull together a life after the party stopped.

I give credit to the kids with dozens of tattoos and body piercings. They fearlessly pour themselves into their image. But I can’t help but wonder who they could become if they guided their dedication to something other than decorating their body.

Even models aren’t hot enough to be models. The rest of the world looks at the newest glossy cover and wonders why they can’t be perfect like that cover girl. In three years that same cover girl will look back and wonder why she’s not perfect anymore.

I wonder what it would be like to meet each person in the dark. Our body, and all that we adorn it with, means nothing. How different would our friends be, or our dates? What would it be like if we all swapped bodies for a day? Think of it as musical chairs with our bodies. Yesterday she was heavy and had acne, today she is tone, tan, and has the perfect smile. Will the studly dude ask her out? (Or is that the wirey geek who ended up a jock for the day?) How will the once high school hotty feel when she sees the dudes look past her?

Pretty is intoxicating, but oh so fleeting. I was just in my hometown for a week, and it was interesting to see how kids from high school are aging. I couldn’t help but think about a day in my fifth grade class. The boys voted for which girl coloring was the prettiest, and the girls voted for the best drawing in the boys. A popular, well-dressed girl ended up getting all the votes from the boys, even though her coloring sucked. Later that week the teacher told the class that sometimes, nerdy kids turn into pretty adults, and pretty kids turn into ugly adults. Our eyes darted around the room wondering which group we’d end up in. Here I am, twelve years later knowing that she was telling the truth.

I’ve met many stunning young women that confided in me the horrors of being an awkward, ugly little girl. I’ve met so many average-looking women who can’t stop bragging about their high school years. Age is a sort of poetic justice for vain individuals.

Yes beauty passes, but I vain people will find other things to be vain about: cars, homes, and their children.

Two things struck me while reading dozens of scholarship applications:

1. No where on a scholarship application can you brag about “just hanging out with friends.”
2. “The only way to have a life is to work at it like crazy.” Now let me explain.

1. No where on a scholarship application can you brag about “just hanging out with friends.” I had an older friend in Boy Scouts who was a country boy, but smarter than he let people know. He laughed at all my jokes and fixed my tent when I couldn’t. I asked him too many questions. I mean–this guy was always three years ahead of me in the uncharted world of teenagers.

He graduated high school with the highest test scores and a truckload of scholarships. Two years later, he dropped out. His little brother explained it to me: “He wanted more time to hang out with his friends and party.”

Every time I am home, his truck is parked at the same gravel parking lot next to the hardware, sitting on the tailgate with his friends. That’s how his story ends.

Hanging out with friends is good. We need friendship and community. But, hanging out with friends, and doing nothing else, is a pathetic life ready to not get better.

2. “The only way to have a life is to work at it like crazy.” -Angelina Jolie. How dumb is some kid to quote Angelina Jolie for a religious scholarship? One month later, Angelina’s words are still swirling in my head.

Life doesn’t just happen anymore than homework does. The most fascinating people I meet are fascinated with their own life. If your life isn’t worth talking about, then your life sucks. Change it.

Most girls I meet are not ready to love.

Many are ready for an attractive, wealthy, and powerful boyfriend who will become a husband. They’ll be able to go shopping, take vacations, and play house. But is she really ready to love him?

I don’t know how this happened. Maybe they’ve been around too many guys who’ve abused their love. Maybe she became an object in a consumer world, and decided to play the game and consume too. Isn’t that the only ideal our society is rooting for anyway?

I meet a lot of Real World fans. So many of girls only see me in the MTV family photo album, and so they talk about family business. MTV=Success=money+partying+stuff. That’s three things that I don’t care about. But I get to hear about all the time. I smile and shake hands and then I move on with my life.

I’ve also met women who glow with love. They transform every room they enter, because of their uncompromising willingness to love. She came into the studio today, and the whole place changed. I changed. I didn’t even get a chance to talk to her.

Women are gifted with an innate ability to love. It is a tragedy that so many hide their greatest gift.